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So far I’ve only commented about my negative feelings towards marriage and weddings. I think it’s only fair to present the other side of the coin too since there have been, believe it or not, moments in my life when I’ve actually wanted to get married. While these moments are few and far between they are still important to mention and perhaps to dissect.

After I left my fiancé all those years ago; the movie based on the book PS I Love You was released. I refused to watch it and I was quite anti all kinds of love stories at that time. I was afraid that love stories would melt my heart and would weaken my resolve to leave a relationship that was not only bad for me but bad for him too. I avoided that movie and about a year later, after Kenny and I had been together for a while, he persuaded me to watch it. I cried and I cried throughout the movie.

Kenny* was quite well aware of my dislike of marriage and mistrust in it so I don’t blame him for being surprised when I blurted out after the movie, “What are we waiting for? Let’s just get married already.” I had decided this quite early on in the movie at about the time when Gerard Butler’s character and his wife had a massive argument and he stormed out in a rage. A strange scene to set off a desire for marriage, but look at the great argument they were having. I wanted that then. Not the argument, but the intimacy, the closeness of being able to air your opinions without the worry that he would take offence and leave, forever. Gerard Butler’s character came back straight after walking out of their place and this kind of renewed my trust in the entire institution of marriage. By that stage, luckily, Kenny was fully aware of my knack for changing my mind and he didn’t drop to one knee and present something resembling a diamond on a piece of metal to me. He laughed and asked when I had lost my mind. “What happed to “I’m never getting married”?” he asked.

Holding hands: like the handshake of love

I tried to explain that the whole shared life was really what had sparked this feeling. Although I value my independence it’s sometimes a comforting thought to know that I am not alone. A shared life is not only about stuff. In fact, stuff has very little to do with it. It’s about knowing that you can rely on someone else to be there for you no matter what. Your husband/wife (personally I prefer partner, because partner makes everyone equal) can’t be a fair weather friend. We all have them, those mates of ours who come to us with their worries, then bugger off when things are good again and are nowhere to be found when we have worries; but your partner is sort of compelled to stick it out with you because if he or she doesn’t, they end up hurting themself . What I’m trying to say is that a shared life is about support, all the kinds of support that any living organism might need. Of course there is a niggly worry that this partner of yours could do more to damage the foundational levels of Maslow’s hierarchy of needs but if you go in awake you should be able to see if they will be an integral part of your life or a total parasite.

Handcuff or outward expression of love?

A shared life is also about commitment. A term which is usually synonymous with fear and dread in my dictionary of life but what is commitment really? It’s not really anything to be afraid of. We commit ourselves everyday to work, university, family, friends, pets and especially debt. We never think twice about any of the above aspects of our lives and yet we worry about picking a life partner to enter into the business of creating other people and making a home together. Is this really so intelligent? I am quite sure that people were not designed to be loners and to try to do everything by themselves.

At the end of the day I need to give Kenny a break. He is really quite an amazing man and I know that we would be able to be equal share partners if we ever decided to take the leap of faith in one another. Never would he expect me to be a cooking cleaning type of person. He is usually more than willing to carry his share of chores. And when I tell him what’s bothering me, he makes a genuine effort to fix it. It is important to be comfortable alone but it is also important to be comfortable with another being who, in all senses of the word is quite like you and yet different enough to keep life exciting.